


Thursdays

by MeAndTheBoys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Death, Ficlet, Love, Love Note, M/M, One Shot, Sad, Short, fun house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeAndTheBoys/pseuds/MeAndTheBoys
Summary: A sad heartfelt love note written from Castiel's perspective as he lives through the constant loops of Dean's deaths.A spin on the trickster episode with Cas in Sam's place.





	Thursdays

It is Thursday, raining and cold like so many days in your past when you'd get out of bed and save the world anyway. Days that a different version of yourself loathed because, even with all of the work to be done, the crisp air made every fallen drop sting your skin with a sharp chill. Not cold enough for snow. 

 

It is Thursday and I'm brought back to attention as the alarm on your radio began playing a song that you and only you would smile to wake up to-- rain humming in the background. And there you are beside me. Asleep.

 

Sleeping like you always are, unaffected by the sounds because you've learned to sleep under these conditions. Your upbringing made it so. You never did care about the noises and I, a being who finds himself so hypersensitive to the sounds of the world, always envied that fairly practical trait. But I’m not happy like I used to be when I’d see your peaceful face pressed gracelessly into the pillow beside me-- located on the left half of the bed due to claims that you just couldn’t sleep on the right. Like there was something about it that was different. 

 

I’m not happy because I know what this day holds. 

 

Yesterday was the worst day of my life and so was the day before that. And perhaps the day before that, as well. In fact, if it were possible for a number of consecutive days to all be the worst day of ones life, each day neither more nor less horrible than the rest, I would say that this past year has been the worst day of my life. 

 

We get up and go to breakfast and you order pancakes, a big stack with a side of bacon, which doesn’t surprise me. The waitress, she smiles at your smile because it’s so contagious. Your charm lights up the diner and she's so struck by your playful ways that she doesn't seems bothered by the fact that I don't order. And I don't really mind. It only reminds me how precious you are and how lucky I am to have the honour of loving you. Today, I'm too tired to contemplate this love.

 

And it happens early today. I don’t know if that makes this day notably better or worse than yesterday. You finish your breakfast and insist on taking a walk around this foreign town, which doesn’t surprise me any more than the fact that you had to order an additional side of bacon or the fact that they waitress drops the saucer of real maple syrup. 

 

I pretend this is all new to me. I feign interest in the things you keep falling prey to just so you can be happy.

 

Just in case today is the last day and in hopes that I can find some way out.

 

And then you crouch over to tie your shoe. And then a car comes. In my arms, straining for each and every breath, I tell you, “I’m sure we’ll see eachother soon.” 

 

It is Thursday, raining and cold, like each and every day before. And you’re still next to me, mouth open and inhaling against the pillow case. And, like every other worst day of my life, I wonder how you’ll die today.


End file.
